


I Know That Look Dear

by epersonae



Series: the only life you could save [22]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Lucretia is damn good at her job, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Polyamory, Post-Canon, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 09:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epersonae/pseuds/epersonae
Summary: At Taako’s urging, Magnus goes to the moon base to visit Lucretia. A moment of vulnerability, a brief tryst, and a new perspective on the life she’s built.





	I Know That Look Dear

**Author's Note:**

> Set the morning after [For All the Love You Left Behind (You Can Have Mine)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191673). Definitely needs the context of The Reckoning Arrives!
> 
> Title from Like Real People Do by Hozier.

Taako leaves Raven’s Roost almost before breakfast is over, while Magnus is still sitting at the kitchen island. “School biz, babe; gotta pick some worthy contenders to learn magic from the best.” he says with a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll get together again real soon, though, promise?”

Magnus turns to kiss him on the mouth, a proper goodbye kiss, and Taako hums appreciatively, but still pushes him away gently.

“Don’t you have dogs to train or whatever?” he says, though still lingering close.

“Still on vacation one more day, technically,” Magnus replies. He’s hoping that’s enough to get Taako to stick around, and for a second his hopes are boosted at the bright expression on Taako’s face.

But another kiss to the temple, and he murmurs, “Maybe take your day off and check on Creesh? Make sure she gets a proper lunch, none of that eating at her desk.”

Magnus wants to pull away, wants to stare him down and get a real answer. Instead he finishes off his toast before saying goodbye, full of promises to get together soon, dinner at the house in Neverwinter, and if not that, soon it’ll be time for everyone to head to the beach.

And when Taako is gone and the dogs let out, he’s not sure what to do with himself. It’s true, he hasn’t made any plans for the day, so he tells himself that he has business up there. He needs to check in on some issues with the partnership. Make sure the latest service animals are working out. See what they need more of. Business stuff. 

Mostly, though, he wants to see her, even without Taako’s prompting. There was something in her voice, the last time they talked. A sad wistful tone he hadn't heard in a long time. She said she'd be busy, so he hadn't pushed, and there'd been plenty else to occupy his thoughts. An odd week, really, with Angus worried about  _ something,  _ Taako out of town so abruptly and then so anxious and needy (and not talking about it), and Kravitz…. 

He frowned to himself as he summoned a glass ball. Was there an anniversary he'd missed? Some special occasion forgotten? He shook his head. If it was important, someone would have said something. They usually did. Carey for sure would have, but she just wanted to go drinking and play Fantasy Mario Battlewagon. Just one of those weeks, he finally decides. 

She's in a meeting when he arrives, according to her assistant, who offers him a seat in the waiting area. But he just winks and heads into her office. As usual, her desk is covered in scrolls and pens. There's a map of some far-off corner of the world, held flat with an inkwell, annotated in her tidy handwriting. 

He takes a hard candy from the handmade bowl on her desk, then flops down on the couch in the corner; he knows she sleeps there sometimes, whatever she might say otherwise. He digs around in his satchel until he comes up with his yarn and crochet hook: just a scarf, something to keep his hands busy while he waits. He’s never been great at waiting, but he’s trying to get a little more patience as he gets older. 

The space feels like her: a little bit like her old room on the Starblaster, a little bit like her office back when he first came to the moon, but now both versions of herself seem to live at peace. The beach year painting, no longer hidden by magic, joined by a painting of Fisher and Junior with their tendrils curled, the colors off but the lines clear and lovely. Then too, the signs of her new work covering every flat surface, maps and papers, her tidy handwriting everywhere.

The door opens; he hears Alex say “Ma’am—” but it’s cut off as she closes the door without a word. She doesn’t see him at first, and he can  _ feel _ her public face drop as she lets out an irritated groan. Another sheaf of papers thrown to the desk, and shoes kicked off, and she cracks her neck so loud it makes him wince.

Only then does she turn to the couch.  _ Need a goddamn nap after that horseshit,  _ she mutters, and then she startles when she finally sees him. He doesn’t quite have the words for the series of emotions that crosses her face. She’s happy to see him, which is good, but there’s a flash of sadness—he’s almost used to that, the way that grief and guilt will fall over her out of nowhere—and also? Fear? Maybe it’s just worry, although even that seems odd. But she worries about so much.

“Hey,” he says, as soft as he can, although he’s aware that his voice carries.

She blinks, once, and the mask is back— it’s a different mask than Madame Director, but it’s still a mask, the smile fond but cautious.

“Shitty meeting?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “You have no idea.”

He stands and pulls her into a hug; for a second, she tenses, and he worries that it’s one of  _ those _ days, when she’s deep into regrets and second-guessing herself. But then she lets out a long sigh and relaxes against him. He buries his face in her curls and rubs circles in her back.

“You did  _ choose _ to turn your super-secret organization into a super-not-secret organization with a million billion meetings.”

She laughs against his chest, and his heart swells with fondness at the sound, so relaxed and ordinary. “It’s not  _ that _ many,” she protests.

“Deffo too many though,” he says as he walks her over to the couch. She leans back against the arm, draping her legs across his lap. She hums appreciatively as he holds her feet. 

“You’ve been so busy, oughta take a break,” and on an impulse from nowhere ( _ check on Creesh? _ ) adds, “Come down to the Roost with me for a few days?”

She shakes her head. “Too much to do right now.” She glances over at the desk, a slight crease between her brows, but it disappears when she looks back at him. Her smile is a little quirk, then. “What, couldn’t steal Taako from reaper house?” she asks.

“Naw, he stayed over….” And he blushes, abruptly, recovering with a laugh. “But y’know, school stuff, had to get back to work too.”

“Everything okay with you two?” Her gaze is intense, like there’s yet another question that she’s not asking. It’s almost too much like Taako’s expression, and strange that she should even ask. For years, keeping the uneasy peace meant not talking about the relationships he’d rebuilt: what’s different now?

“We’re good.” A flicker of a thought for the evening spent alone with Kravitz, another thing still to talk about: save that for later. “I think work must be getting to him, for all that he acts like he doesn’t do any.” He pauses, remembers Angus in the kitchen, so worried and upset. “You guys letting work get you all grumpy? Is that it? ‘Cause it’s not fair to Angus when you take it out on him.”

She closes her eyes; her shoulders shake in silent laughter. It’s not the reaction he’d expected.

“Luce? Sounded like he was trying to do something nice for you guys and it backfired, or something, he wasn’t real clear about it, but seriously, you guys could at least—”

She sighs and looks at him, shaking her head gently.

“I know.” Again, that rapid-fire progression of expressions. (Fear? What could she possibly be afraid of?) And finally the composed mask, and then totally ordinary, just Lucretia lounging on her office couch with her feet in his lap.

“Baby, what’s up?”

“I can’t— There’s nothing— It’s just—”

Then the facade cracks entirely: she looks absolutely stricken, and she’s crying. Hollow eyes like she used to get sometimes towards the end of the century…. When she stopped talking to them. He scoops her up onto his lap and holds her close, rocking her gently.

“You gotta talk about it, baby, whatever’s going on you know I’m here for you.” He murmurs into her hair and a wet laugh bubbles out of her.

“Oh, Magnus.” She lays still against his chest as he strokes her back. “I'd tell you if I could.”

“That Lord Sterling guy being a jerk? He was a real dick.” She laughs. “It's not Lucas, is it? I'll kick his ass.”

Another laugh, and this time she responds, “Why would it even be Lucas?”

“I dunno, I just kinda want to kick his ass.”

“Please don't, dear, for me?” 

“Okay, but you gotta promise me you're gonna talk to someone. You know how it is when you don't talk to anybody.” She sighs. “Or you can just cry if you need to, that's okay too.” She curls in closer, and he can feel his shirt getting damp with her tears. 

“I love you, Magnus,” she says, her voice muffled in his shirt. “I always loved you, even—” 

“Hey. Hey, baby, come on, you can't keep, you gotta—” 

She sits up and looks at him. Her cheeks are streaked with tears, her eyes are swollen. She sniffles, and somehow it sounds dignified anyway. “Oh Magnus, I'm so glad you had someone when—” She swallows the rest of the sentence. He's heard this from her before. Sometimes it's an apology, sometimes it's gratitude. If she's been thinking about Taako, it can be guilt that lurks behind her words. Today it looks like grief, and he doesn't know what to say to that. 

He touches her face and she keeps looking at him, unblinking, stern and sad. Really, there’s not much he can do, except gently encourage her to talk and be there whether she does or not.

“Are you happy?” she asks plaintively. “I know you miss her—”

He flinches, a little, at that. They haven't talked about Julia in a long time, and now this, after the conversation with Taako? His feeling of unease deepens.

“Luce, please?”

She’s still staring at him, with that grave look that’s more Madame Director than his beloved Lucretia. He lets out a long breath. He misses Julia all the time. He loves his life now. Both of these things can be true. He takes her hands in his and they’re cold, although gradually warming at his touch.

“Magnus?”

“Oh, Luce, if I miss her, that doesn’t mean—” He pulls the chain out from his shirt. The wedding rings clink together, silver on wood. “This, this reminds me, and it reminds me of…. She’d want me to be happy, and I  _ am _ happy.” He kisses her cheek; he turns her head and kisses her forehead.

She’s crying again, in a way that feels like breaking the surface tension, her face open and soft. He brushes away the tears with his thumb, blinking away his own gathering tears, and she almost smiles.

“I’ve tried so hard,” she says. “And so often it feels like…. There’s so much still to do, Magnus, and still you and Angus and, and—” Her voice fades. “And Taako…. I just wanted to do right by  _ all  _ of you.”

He kisses her on the lips, then, and she kisses back with the hint of a sigh.

“And you’ve done so much. Every day, you do so much.” He touches the back of her neck, and she closes her eyes. “Baby, everyone knows—” Her brow creases in a frown. 

“Not everyone thinks that's a good thing, and no, I'm not just talking about Taako.”

He wants to smooth away the frown with his hands. He settles for kissing her again. 

“Well, those people suck, and they don't even deserve your attention.  _ We  _ know, and I'm gonna include Taako in that, even when he's being a dick.” She laughs, which is what he was hoping for. 

Gently, carefully, he asks, “Is it okay with  _ you _ two?”

“I think it will be?” There's a tentative hope in her voice and that makes him jubilant. He  _ wants  _ to pick her up and dance around her office. Instead he hugs her tight and kisses the top of her head. 

“You're  _ sure  _ you can't tell me what happened?” Her only answer is a sigh. “Okay, okay. I’ll trust you.” She leans against him, her hand curled in his shirt, then kisses up along his jaw.

“I  _ have  _ missed you,” she murmurs below his ear. Her hand on his shirt uncurls, and then she begins unbuttoning it. Her hand rests on his bare chest, runs up to curl around his neck, to pull him into another kiss.

“You’re just trying to distract me,” he says.

“Oh no, you’ve found me out,” she replies, her flat serious voice barely tinged with a smile as she reaches to thumb across a nipple.

“Luce,” he breathes. “I…. You….”

“You missed me too?”

He kisses her again. Sometimes he thinks he could spend the whole day kissing her: it feels like coming home, over and over again. But she wants more, today, pushing his shirt back. Her hands roam over his chest, up his neck, into his hair. He wants to take his time, he wants to give her all the pleasure in the world, but she’s hurried and eager, her low voice no longer either stern or playful but begging.

There’s an urgency about her that he can’t help responding to, and they don’t leave her office— they don’t even leave the couch— and she cries out his name,  _ she needs him,  _ she says, and there’s something about that tone. It’s both memory of long ago, and also just yesterday. There are tears in her eyes too, though they don’t fall, as she rocks against him. He pauses to check, to touch her gently, but she smiles and draws him close again, as though words might destroy the moment.

So he follows her lead, touches her in all the ways he knows she likes to be touched, and the tears vanish as he draws out little noises of pleasure from her. Even after a hundred years and more it still feels like there’s a secret corner of her just out of reach, but at least he can give her this. He knows how to take her apart, he knows how to give her this, and she wants it, she wants him, and he’s calling her name, because she knows him just as well.

After, they’re in a sweaty heap on her office sofa, and he giggles, giddy in his post-coital bliss. He traces a finger along her collarbone. She hums a question at him.

“Madame Director,” he says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice as he pretends at being stern like she seems to do so easily, “what would people say?”

She smiles back but doesn’t answer, instead combing her fingers through his hair. 

The door handle jiggles loudly in the quiet room, followed by a knock, and the familiar sound of Lucretia’s assistant clearing her throat, then: “Director, your lunch appointment.”

“Lunch appointment, Luce? Really?”

She sighs, picking her wand up from the floor and muttering the familiar cantrip to clean them both up, a second incantation he assumes to dispel whatever silencing wards she uses. (At least he hopes, with a deep blush, that there was a silencing ward on the room.)

She projects her voice just a bit to say, “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute,” then at a volume just for them, “It’s the only time that worked for my one-on-one with Brad, gets us both out of our offices for lunch besides.”

He gives her what he hopes is a stern look; she rolls her eyes as she picks their clothes up off of the floor, tossing his to him.

“Yes, tell Taako I’m eating properly, even if he doesn’t approve of the BoB cafeteria’s offerings they’re still well-balanced meals.” 

“I didn’t— He— How—?”

She shakes her head and laughs softly, again, like there’s something else there he can’t quite figure out. She pulls on her robes; another spell and all the wrinkles snap away. She leans over and kisses his forehead. 

“They'll say that Madame Director has always loved Magnus Burnsides,” she murmurs, before tipping his face up and kissing him again, softly, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. 

She agrees to dinner, at least, and he agrees to brave Fantasy Costco to get something for them. He lingers in her office for a moment after she leaves; he watches her transform back into Madame Director. It’s not a burden to her, he realizes; her face is alight and energized when she greets Brad, she gestures broadly as she talks, the orc calmly nodding as he follows along.

One last look around her office, one more candy from the bowl on her desk. For a long time, he thought she kept this up as a reparation, and maybe it’s that way sometimes. He’s glad that’s not all it is.

It’s with a new appreciation that he looks around the quad as he walks towards the squat cube of the Fantasy Costco. Domes, like the ones she used to draw in her journals, but real, full of life and activity, all bent towards building a better world below.

And whatever she says about some people thinking it’s not a good thing, looks to him like there’s just as many drawn to it. Every time he comes up, there’s a new crowd of recruits— lucky bastards who don’t have to fight robot ogres— getting the grand tour, getting started on their own rebuilding journey.

He walks past today’s group, and they’re whispering to each other, attention broken from their tour guide. He flexes and winks, and honestly basks a little in the response: a pair of half-elves giggling, a halfling offering a salute, a burly human flexing in return. 

There’s a half-orc with a scarred face, towering over the others, who looks nervous, almost troubled, and he gives that guy a grin. He thinks of Ango, Killian, Johann; he thinks of himself, grieving and aimless when he arrived here. He remembers her then, stern but welcoming. His smiles softens, and he nods in what he hopes is a welcome she'd be proud of, a friendly wave before continuing on his way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, that is our boy Kenneth at the end there getting his BoB orientation. 
> 
> Thank you to @hops for giving me something so tender to launch off of, and also for talking through this one when I just needed someone to give me permission to do the right thing for me. <3
> 
> And thanks to the WDA crew for the conversation the other night about Lucretia as a competent professional who takes pride in her work. That definitely added to what I did with the ending. (Thanks also for the Hozier chat the other night, ended up looking there for a title.) Y'all are the best!


End file.
